I lost a boy that wasn't even mine
And now he's asking if I'm fine
'Fine' never means 'fine'
'Fine' means
'Dead inside'
But I'm good at this
I'm good at putting on smiles
And he believes my lies
How nice is that?
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Intoxicated// Short poems
Poetry-Simply feelings dripping into letters - -For all the misfits . For all the broken - -All rights reserved -#91 after 7 days in the genre
